Against Gravity
by dandelion-kid
Summary: [I claim no right to Digimon.] Daisuke is befuddled with all the romantic chances thrown at him by young men everywhere, but there is only a handful he'll actually consider. Maybe, just maybe, he'll get the one he's so keen on. [Takesuke, mainly. Updated!
1. The Locker Confrontation

I leant over the desk, exasperated, with my unkempt, slightly spiky head of maroon hair covered neatly by a dark brown flat cap. It was very modern and in style, Yamato told me as he had handed it to me. I'd told him I'd like to impress someone, but refused to declare whom. Either way, he chose it casually from the depth of his wardrobe, claiming that he'd bough it earlier last month, but told me that it didn't suit him. I was momentarily mind-blown – something didn't go well on Yama? Man, was I in for a treat. Perhaps, there was the most petite chance ever he'd glance at me. I was ruthlessly, hopelessly and distantly in adoration with that boy, sitting only three seats up from me. My teacher's voice was blurry and soft, as I scribbled small figures upon my notebook, taking down the notes. Takeru had been moved to my classroom for English, due to him being ever so intelligent. I gazed upward, settling my eyes on the board. I hadn't paid attention to the explanation, so I was likely to fail the class. Didn't matter, anyway, as I never really liked literature – soccer and gym was always my thing. I tugged nervously at my baggy pants; fearing that they were slipping downward and revealing my backside crack to the whole back of the class. I really am self-conscious, though I don't show it, and I can't help it. I only act sane and normal around my friends – as in, the chosen ones. I continued to stare at the back of his head, his gleaming, shaggy blonde hair and matching hat. The bell began to shriek and whistle, and I jumped a little as I popped from seat, slinging the backpack containing heavy books over my shoulder and sprinting off unusually fast, feeling the eyes of other students on me. I didn't dare glance back, afraid that they would see the emotion of expectation on my face – expecting for him to grin at me, and I would blush. Stepping through the hallways, I waved briefly at Miyako who was leaning against her locker, having a deep conversation with Jou. He didn't have an education here anymore, but he did promise he'd stop by and speak to her about, well, _I _don't know. I'm not particularly nosey to anybody else's business, seeing as I don't want them to meddle in mine. I'm pretty typical, if you know me well enough. I spun to me locker, turning it precisely to the combination, and swung it open. It was almost empty, as I usually left my stuff at home. There were pictures clumsily glued onto the sides of myself and Veemon, Inoue Miyako and Hawkmon, Hida Cody and Armadillomon, Yagami Hikari and Takaishi Takeru alongside Gatomon and Patamon. Each of us had signed out names, and I missed the old days when we fought alongside together.

I heard approaching footsteps behind me, and a rough tap on my shoulder. I turned around, aggravated by the unannounced arrival, but met Fukushima Katsuo, the current soccer team captain, standing there in his confident, self-centred glory. His severely tanned skin and hanging, dark brown hair tied in a male ponytail repulsed me a bit, but hey, he must've got the talent from somewhere. Then again, he may have bribed the coach to giving him the position. I'd go with the latter. His girlfriend, Ishikawa Emiko, was widely known around Odaiba as the beautiful daughter of the determined mayor. I hate the typical, hot, divine girl. They seem so unreal, I've always thought, and a realistic person I need to date. Which spawned my soft obsession with Takeru, ever since I'd denied my feelings, because of the blazing rivalry we openly displayed in public. Cocking an eyebrow and appearing calm and cool, I spoke loudly and prominently.

"Yeah? Whatcha want?"

Katzuo's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Just letting you know, Daisuke. We have soccer practise beginning next week. Be there."

My lips pursed, eyes twinkling in defiance as I stepped forward, determined to stop him ordering me around. "I will. If you say please, alright?"

Katsuo pushed me backward and I slammed into my locker, pissed off to the utmost extent. That idiot thought that he could push anyone around, I knew it, he knew it and the whole freakin' school knew it. Everybody he hung out with was too scared to deny his orders or not be his friend. I grinned mischievously as he held me by the collar, shaking me gently. "Trying to teach me manners, Daisuke?"

I nodded, my face plastered in innocent mocking toward him. "Well, I like to teach Emiko manners too, if you get what I mean."

In a split second, I saw the clenched fist draw back momentarily, before thundering forward and making contact with my nose. I heard a shrill cracking and a dull ringing in my mind, as crimson blood ran freely and unwillingly from my nose and staining my shirt. I was daunted for a moment. Bombarding myself at him, despite the agonizing affliction in my nose, I slammed him in response and the two of us rumpled to the squeaky-clean, tiled floor. Katsuo struggled to regain his position, squirming like an insect. I forced my knuckles into his stomach and he let out a strangled bellow. I chortled insanely as an acclaiming crowd gathered. Several familiar faces appeared as a pair of silk-smooth, heavenly arms pulled me to my feet. Disgruntled, Takeru's worried and sympathetic face met mine. My agitated attitude dissolved immediately and I gazed down at my shoes, embarrassed and insulting myself inwardly. Takeru led me away wordlessly, down the hallways and behind a set of lockers, giving us delayed privacy. I was terrified and blessed at the same time. I was all abandoned with Takaishi Takeru, my crush, my obsession, and my role model.

There was a numberless list of things I would have done right there and then. But, despite the symbol of courage bestowed and handed down to me, I didn't have the balls to do anything. Takeru stared at me, a definite smirk on his face. However, it was certainly not a smirk of evil, or snobby attitude, but the kind of one that would melt you into dribbles of guck on the floor. My cheeks cascaded into a colour similar to the amiable petals of a rose. I raised my bloody hand to my mouth, to hide the crumpled, though not broken, nose and the genuine, hidden display of affection. Did he even know? I didn't think so. It was several minutes before Takeru spoke.

"Dai, is something bothering you?"

I shook my head furiously. "No, not a care in the world. Katsuo just being his usual, asshole-ish self." Takeru giggled in a chiming sound.

"Really, though, you couldn't pay attention in class. You-you were staring at the back of my head."

I froze, mind-boggling and attempting, in vain, to search for a suitable answer that would not appear in anyway, revealing about my emotions. Oh, damn. Fiddling with my gloves, I couldn't help but seem to think that there was a note of suggestion in his voice. If there were, I would grab hold of him there and then. But, as I said, I didn't have the balls of steel to accomplish that and, with a sigh, lied through my teeth about everything in a relaxed manner.

"You know I hate Literature," I mumbled, running my free left hand through my untameable red hair. Takeru shook his head solemnly so that his scruffy, blonde hair waved elegantly from side to side. Must resist cowardly temptation, I frantically thought. Takeru then uttered the words warmed me to the mellow bone, and caused me to smile jubilantly in response. I didn't care if he thought I was insane or weird. He said it uniquely, as if Daisuke Motomiya was the one thing in school that kept him going. I honestly mean it; he is what keeps me going. Without him, going to face Katsuo and all the other jocks would be worthless. Worthless, I tell you!

"Fine. But, Dai, I don't want to see you get hurt, ever. If you're having problems, don't be afraid or embarrassed to let me know. I'm usually at home on weekends. Pop by if you like."

Praise the lord! Is he flirting with me? Maybe he is. Ooh, HIS house? Hotdogs? Kisses? Tempting situations? His house? Is he flirting with me? I can't believe this. I timidly stepped back, before nodding shyly. I only just managed to speak as he brushed his hand against my face, before heading up the hall. I leaned against the locker, breathing heavily as if I'd just finished a soccer game.

I knew I was hopelessly and deeply in love with Takeru. My reputation and home-life was at stake. But I was going to give it a go, anyway. I was just about crazy enough.

To his house on Saturday, it was.


	2. His Unknown Intervention

I tugged at my hair in frustration, the soft, silky, thick cover of my blankets draped around my body like some almighty, limp toga. I was half-nude; the only article clothing on my body was my blue-striped boxers. As I gazed down lazily, admiring my faint six-pack etched on my slim, tanned stomach. I grinned in pride, stroking the back of my neck with my index finger. I really needed to sort my priorities out, fashion-wise. I'd been here, alone, rummaging through my wardrobe feverishly and frantically, overwhelmed by oncoming panic. Everything that seemed handsome and sexy before just shrunk in comparison to the way I wanted to make Takeru feel and behold me. I was almost stalker-ish, but I was paranoid about this and wanted to look my best. I guess that it has always been that way. Jeans, t-shirts, khaki pants, trainers, socks and tracksuits were strewn carelessly and mindlessly across the carpeted floor – a pair of sandals had somehow hung themselves to the coat hanger located in the corner as they soared elegantly through the air. I'd been up since six in the freakin' morning, and being the lazy procrastinator that I am, it was a whole new change. I strived on the thought of looking good for him. And I remembered the words he'd so wonderfully mentioned to me the few evenings before. So, standing up furiously and stomping over to a mahogany cabinet, I pulled out the dark brown flat cap and placed it wearily atop my head, frowning childishly and my legs swinging aimlessly and lightly over the edge of the bed, several inches above the floor. A thunderous thought struck me there and then, and I huffed as I heard her whistle tunelessly, followed by the clunk of cups on the counter and the pouring off fresh coffee. I was like a girl, and I knew it, being weird over this. I couldn't help it. Please, forgive me, God!

I snapped open my dodgy door and peered outside, squinting like a devil sick of sin in the strong, blasting morning sunlight confidently passing through the windows. Coughing unnecessarily, I croaked as my eyelids drooped, walking into the kitchen and doing a nervous little skip as Jun rolled her eyes at my appearance. I was still dressed in my striped boxers (well, _I _thought they were cute) and my flat cap (cute _again_, I tell you! Yamato determined it!), so she seemed to think I was a little eccentrically dressed compared to my usual outfit, but I was doing okay, if I could say so myself. The tinkling of glass against glass echoed softly around the room, as we both attended to our business. In honesty, I was terrified. Jun is like an eagle and a jaguar combined. She seems to be like one of those really bad zombies, who knows your real intentions for everything and knows when you're lying. And then when you enter a conversation with her, and she's curious about something, she will never let it go. I don't know how Yamato put up with her without knowing her very well. I had to live with this all my life, and I still have nightmares about her and her lavender giant-spiky-afro hair coming toward me, cackling about my crush toward Takeru. So, springing unexpectedly at her, I pressed my hands beside the breadboard where she was carefully and diligently slicing crispy toast in half. I cleared my throat, itching my chest. "Um, Jun?"

She grunted in approval. "See, I kind of don't know what to wear, and I want to me somebody I like. As in, REALLY like-like." Jun freakishly turned her head back so it gave me a jump, bellowing in triumphant laughter as I stood there helplessly. She was like that girl from The Exorcist!

"And WHO is this girl, exactly?"

My heart shrunk, deflating in sadness as the regular, outward Daisuke realised that he was expected to wish to bang and make out with a GIRL, because he was the soccer master and the hunk of the week in school. And if they found out that I liked a boy, I was screwed. Slightly regretting my decision of doing anything to retrieve Takeru's love and attention, I waved my hand needlessly as if wading off a swarm of irritable flies. The idea had seemed good and adventurous at the time, really. I narrowed my eyes, appearing pissed off, as I muttered vilely. "None of your business. You're a fashion guru right?"

Jun continued to chuckle manically. In the way, when a girl can't stop giggling about some guy that winked at her. "Or so they say."

"Then, you're going to help me, no?" I asked curiously.

Jun's head bobbed to the left slightly. "For a ransom." My head leapt to its limited peak, as I boiled at her doofus excuse to help me. What a… censored. "Would you save a starving African person for a ransom?" Jun's eyes switched from cold and greedy to bubbly and full of sympathy, as she twirled from one side of the kitchen to the next.

"Of course not!" she chimed. I nodded and spoke. "Then, tell me what I'm going to wear." I led her down the hall, swinging open the door forcefully as she gazed inside, her finger pressing delicately against her cheek, as she bit her lip and observed. Shaking her head, she stood there in silence and I awaited her comment nervously and anxiously, if somebody can feel both at the same time. She stormed into the bedroom, rampaging almost, swinging up several items including my favourite shirt and other articles of my personal clothing interest.

Apparently, I was fashion-blind, as there were a limited number of things left. I stood there, my mouth agape, pleasantly surprised as she dumped a group of jeans, pants and jumpers on top of the already crumpling pile of stuff. She then arose, her hands on her hips as she grinned girlishly. "So, Dai-boy, what were you expecting to make 'em feel?"

I froze, before shrugging simply. "I just want them to think that maybe there would be the slightest chance that we would work. That we could get together and give it a chance – I want them to believe that the socially unacceptable could happen."

Jun's momentary relaxed and jubilant nature disappeared; replaced by the curious, gossip-seeking eagle that I knew she would eventually reach. She must've had an alter ego or something, because the radar stood uninterrupted as I sat there on the dark blue beanbag, nearly soiling my pants in fearful anticipation. Fortunately however, she let her guard down and threw a bunch of clothes at me, snapping her right hand over her eyes, blocking her vision as she clumsily made her way out of the room. As she did this, I yelled out at her: "What do you want me to do?"

Jun seemed to chortle in agitation. "Put them on, STUPID!"

I rolled my eyes (and getting annoyed and pained from rolling them so often in Jun's presence) and slipped a shirt over my head, lazily pulling a pair of jeans on and tightening them with a belt. Jun waited with bated breath outside as I experimented with each and every outfit, hoping for the perfect one that would steal Takeru's breathing. I must be a transgender or very much in love, because I felt oddly exhilarated by it all.

I was aiming toward the latter.

"Oh, Daisuke, you look so good!"

I couldn't resist going a loving shade of brick red as Jun complimented me on my selection and I looked down, wondering if I really did look sexy. Did I look sexy enough for Takeru, though? That was the ultimate and decisive question. From bottom to top, I wore gleaming white trainers with two 'Nike' symbols embedded on each side. I wore fairly loose and baggy jeans, with a tangling chain dangling from the side, accessorised with a thin, white belt. Jun had gone with a tight, light blue shirt with white sleeves and… well, which was it. I thought it was a little bland but hey, Jun was apparently the 'fashion guru' and all, so I just shut up and allowed her to comment uniquely and nicely on the clothing roundup. Staring at the clock, we both jumped in unision as I yelled "Oh, shit!" and, snatching my coat off of the stairway banister, I screamed a goodbye thanks to Jun and pelted down the street as I neared the Takaishi residence.

Once there, I rang the doorbell, so that it too shrieked happily and comfortingly, calming me down as I nervously stroked my hair. I broke out in sweat as nobody answered for several minutes. My trainers patted squeamishly against the tar macadam and the sound of yelling, groaning and shouting grew even louder as a tall, blonde-haired person approached the front door (I squinted oddly through the paned glass to view this) and I twiddled with my thumbs as the door snapped open and I looked up, smiling joyously at the person standing in front of me. However, my reality was broken and churned as I realised that this was not the person whom had beckoned me to his house the few nights before, but his very brother. Ishida Yamato frowned and, appearing to suddenly remember something, passed a sympathetic look on his features, one particularly unusual for Yamato.

"Dai, Takeru had to go to the clinic. He wasn't feeling the best. Takeru said sorry, and that he was expecting you. He said… maybe next Saturday?" I put on the best fake laugh and dance act I could, whilst my inside was ripping itself apart in stupidity and artificial self-hatred. I back away, tearing down the street as I yelled an apology to Yama for wasting his time. Down the street, I was so blindly insensitive to myself that I feel stupid for even considering myself to be worth him, or even expecting my luck to so full of glee and mirth to let him be there. If my so-called _luck_ was on happy-pills, he'd be depressed enough to deny me happiness. I fucking hated fate right now. Was it fate that was doing this? My thoughts were interupped as I slammed into somebody, spinning around to meet their gorgeous dark blue eyes and shining blonde hair, but it was not whom I believed it to be. My old feeling erupted in a sensation of passion and romance, scrambling backward as I began to shy away from him. He moved closer, winking at me as our bodies pulled closer, but not close enough to appear publicly in love. We were once, but he had to leave and that was it for several years.

Wallace ruffled my hair with his hand. He was so tall, and handsome, and I began to oddly regret having not missed him, or visited him, or… denied him?

"Hey, Dai. What's up?" He blew a kiss, before tittering madly. "I missed you. And guess what? I'm staying here FOR GOOD. I know, right?" he added, as I stared in awe.

Takeru and I were lessening our chances of being together.

Oh, shit.


	3. A Little Pondering

I foolishly and conceitedly played with the spiky roots of my hair, running my fingers gently up and down, releasing my finger grip, before repeating. I did this continuously, feeling helpless and pulverised under the scathing and controlling stare of the trio of angrily confused, unbelievingly taken aback young women. Hikari, Sora and Miyako were practically springing around in satisfactory gossip-mode, their hair on end from the drama, wagging their fingers in my face and scolding me for lying and pretending that I was accepting all the recent events. Hell, it was my fault for pretending that I was so jubilant about Wallace's return and that we could start over. But, was I really pretending? He and I did have some sort of spark when we first met, as he led me astray from the unsuspecting eyes of Iori and the rest of the group. In fact, it wasn't long before we fought that giant version of Cocomon. We talked a little bit, rather quietly and sincerely. I didn't realize how long we were out there, but it was evening and all of a sudden, the stars were shining and the moon was there glowing like a giant beacon. The scene, the moment, it was just so flawless… like a picture from a movie. And Wallace's hand moved slyly across the grass, placing his on top of mine. I shivered, but not due to the cold. And as our fingers curled intact with one another, I remember him chuckling so serenely and, in one swift movement, rolled over the lush grass and on top of me, gently looking down into my eyes, as I lay transfixed. And he forcefully cast his lips onto mine in a hungry kiss, and I responded in spite of my denial of my feelings and attractions at the time. It was my first kiss – with somebody like that, actually, - and always felt it was one of the most defining moments of my young life. You never forget those kinds of things, even when you accidentally stumble across them after almost an _age _after them slipping away from your remembrance. Like a lantern somewhere in the midst of an overwhelming darkness – and, take it from me, I know a thing or two about facing the darkness. The majority of the fighting was against my will, but hey, you must do what you must do. So there I was, sitting opposite an outraged Miyako, as she shook her head and continued to put me under the impression that I was some sort of criminal. I groaned, laying back and covering my face in cowardice with my hands, preparing for the blow.

"I didn't think this was going to happen," I mumbled, regretting having ever told them how I felt, and about who. Seriously, I'm never going to tell a girl anything. Ever again, I'm positive. Hikari blinked quizzically, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Wait, I thought you liked _me_? And women in _general_."

I shook my head solemnly yet again, an arrogant pout plastered across my face. I refused to give my reasons as to why this came about, but insecurity, admittedly, would be a main factor. Besides, becoming known as the local goofball and seducer was getting tiring. And deep down, deeper than any person could see, Takeru had always been the person I fancied. I hadn't known it, until several weeks ago, when Takeru asked me to go to the cinema with Hikari, Taichi, Yamato, Sora and Miyako. I'd been touched, genuinely felt like one of the gang for the first time since having the blessing of being a Digidestined bestowed upon me. Takeru always played hard to get, and that made it all the more exhilarating. I like a good emotional chase. Sora was still obviously pondering the whole situation, her hand placed girlishly on her thigh. I couldn't help but stand upward, tired that I had been given no answer to my predicament. I swayed myself toward the door, as Miyako continued to tap her foot impatiently. Sora called out after me hastily.

"I set you up a date with Wallace, Dai!"

I froze instantly, my muscles contracting so quickly that I felt as if I was locked in some kind of temporary paralysis. My lower lip twitched and trembled due to this startling announcement and I couldn't bear to hold in my calm, cool and controlled side anymore – had I not faced plenty of humiliation enough. I'd expected to reside in the girls, but now they were the speechless, unavailing people that resembled my parents since their messy and disastrous divorce. I managed to utter out a squeaky question, my cheeks flaring such a dark red it appeared as if I had a beacon attached to each of my cheeks. "When?"

She brushed her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear, portraying an act of such a forced calm that it was blatantly unobvious (if that makes even a droplet of sense) she was acting. "Monday. At Starbucks, six-thirty sharp." I groaned, tugging at my bracelet and snapping up my skateboard professionally so that it stood fully erect, balanced by my hand grinding against it's edge. All three girls avoided my gaze, like puppy dog's shying away from still water appearing so beautiful and tempting – yet they knew that my handsome appearance was only skin deep, as it was with everybody, and my courage was softened and balanced with my blazing, unwilling, uncontrolled temper and my pride, being so fierce that it like a cloud – blocking every ounce of my common sense as a cloud would do so to the sun. My words sounded thoroughly sluggish and drowsy, but this was only due to me biting my lip so fiercely that droplets of crimson blood dribbled wearily down my chin and onto my jacket.

"Fine. He's sexy anyway," I huffed, slipping on my converse sneakers. Hikari raised her hand timidly, her voice, despite it's gentle and caring tone, managed to come across wise and almighty, as usual. Christ, I wish these kind of girls would stop coming around – we needed more that one would be able to refuse and reject their advice clearly and straightforwardly. But Hikari would be able to melt butter with that creamy and irresistible voice. I swear to freakin' God, she's going to be able to marry a millionaire or a famous sports star one day.

I'll probably end up being married for insurance, if I don't hitch up with Takeru, or Wallace or Taichi. Was that even legal? I couldn't determine the laws or outcome of everything for sure. All I know is, those three lads' are as horny as they come – sex on toast, complete and utter easy kids. Takeru was the toughest to penetrate, however, with Wallace a close second. Taichi, the poor thing, is practically a gigolo. But I still love him to bits, in more ways than one. I'm defitenley going out with him to either spin Takeru into a blind, envious, jealous rage or just because I love him. In that weird, homosexual, friendship horn-dog way, you know?

I returned to the revolving situation that was the present, and I couldn't help but ponder what it was like to be a female, as I stared momentarily at Sora's short-cut skirt, which revealed her upper thigh in a virgin-like way. I'm always spinning carelessly and sloppily into these random daydreams, wondering whether or not God is real, wondering what it's like to be a girl, etcetera. I'm weird that way, and I really, really enjoy the way I am. Gosh darn it, why can't I keep with the times, I'm like a cellphone timer that always ends up screwing up no matter where or when you set the time.

"Alright, I'll go. But under one condition – can I go out with Taichi for one date, Hikari? Soon?"

Hikari blinked in a confused and pleasantly shocked manner, her light brown hair brushing delicately with her pale face and her features were hastily enveloped with a tittering smile. "Sure you can, he's gotten over Yamato, as far as I can see. Wants some fresh meat," she joked in her manliest voice, which, to be blunt, was still as girly sounding as Mimi's. I nodded and rushed out the door with my skateboard, leaving them sitting there by themselves. Miyako hadn't spoken – that actually freaked me out a bit. It was a far cry from her common, outrageous personality.

I leaped onto the form of transport and glided down the street gracefully, yet roguishly and stylishly, my hoodie whipping out past my shoulders and flowing through the air. I propelled and accelerated myself forward, my hands still on my hips, contemplating the whole situation. I wanted to go out with either Takeru or Taichi, whilst Wallace was practically starved and begging for my attention (I admit that I like that), but I was due a date with Wallace or Taichi. I shut my eyes, thinking of the trio of all three of them and viewing them like a film in my mind, which was a foolish and ignorant idea, and I felt my whole body frame lurch forward dramatically and connect abruptly with the rocky and stubbly pavement. I swore profoundly and heaved myself upward, my throbbing right arm brushing against another's. And guess who was standing there?

Takeru Takaishi grinned angelically and rubbed the back of his neck mindlessly, in such a way that his lime green shirt lifted up a little, revealing a smooth, pale, rippling stomach that would send even the darkest and unemotional heart in a endless relapse. I felt my breath catch, a stutter growing, my palms grow sweaty and my stomach turns to lead, all at one precise moment. Takeru shifted from foot to foot, a cheeky grin plastered ceremoniously over his features. His lips moved and a hopeful voice echoed in my ears. But there was something different about him… his cheeks were a little gaunter than usual and he had bags under his eyes.

"Hey, Dai. Sorry for not making it the other day. I really wanted to meet you," he told me – even if he was looking a little ill, his eyes sparkled ferociously and I couldn't help but smile dumbly and oblivious to anything else going on around me. I stretched, showing my own tanned and slim figure, and Takeru blushed and his eyes snapped upward after he had stopped staring momentarily. I felt in control for that split second – I had made Takeru glare in longing, and that was an achievement in my own ways.

"Maybe we could hang out now?" I asked, my eyebrow cocking in question. My hand was hanging loose near his side, my cheeks steadily flushing. Takeru was gave a little groan and he reluctantly shook his head. "Daisuke, I'm on my way to meet, uh… Taichi, actually."

My heart deflated there and then – he would seem Takeru fancied Taichi, and I was left with horny-as-hell, blonde, envious, American Wallace. I was unfaithfully stuck to one person forever and I wouldn't find anybody else. I found myself repeating a Jennifer Holliday song in my head, my breathing and body language changing severely. I felt trapped and, despite this, I nodded in reluctant agreement. My face fell, and I was trying to hold in the pressure. I'm a drama queen, or a king, whatever you want to call it, and it's just me. If nobody likes it, they can go hang out with somebody else for all I care.

"Don't worry about it, enjoy yourself. Tuesday?" I suggested weakly. Takeru almost jumped in answer.

"Of course! Nine o'clock? Odaiba is really beautiful that time. A great time to hang out and think." I was so taken aback and struck by his words I was sure he cared for me – more than I could consider. Why else would he offer to hang out alone in Odaiba so early in the morning? He wanted to talk sincerely and honestly with me, of course! Maybe a little private moment – cough, snogging, cough. And then Takeru walked away, leaving me happier than I'd felt all day. But I still had to go out with someone I didn't feel for in any way, really.

Wallace. Uck.


End file.
